


making new clichés

by sarcasticfluentry



Series: The Boundless Saga [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fashion & Couture, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Paris (City), Semi-Public Sex, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfluentry/pseuds/sarcasticfluentry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec doesn't like to think about getting older. This anxiety gets even worse on his birthday, so Magnus whisks him away to Paris to cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alec goes through his first birthday since he started dating an immortal and it goes about as well as you'd expect, especially for someone with so many insecurities. Poor baby. Luckily Magnus doesn't take it too personally and takes him on a visit to his famous flat in Paris ;)
> 
> Next chapter (Paris Fashion Week! a PFW party! Sightseeing! Some sex during which Alec definitely doesn't cry!) should be up within two weeks.
> 
> Title is from "for him." by Troye Sivan. My tumblr is [povverbottoms](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com).

When Alec Lightwood wakes up the morning of his twenty-third birthday, he mutters obscenities under his breath. He doesn’t _feel_ any different - but he _knows_ he’s a year older, and that’s enough to make him want to go back to sleep, so Alec immediately closes his eyes and snuggles closer to his non-aging boyfriend.

As much as he wants to be unconscious, though, it’s pretty much impossible right now - Magnus is flopped on his chest, spread out like a starfish, and one of his elbows is pressing into Alec’s bladder.

Alec groans quietly and maneuvers out of the bed, leaving Magnus in their mountain of pillows as he pads into the bathroom to relieve himself.

Twenty-three. He’s twenty-three years old today. He was twenty-two when he met Magnus. In a year he’ll be twenty-four, then twenty-five - he’ll be _thirty_ in only seven years.

Fuck.

While he washes his hands, Alec looks critically at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t _appear_ any older, at least not that he can tell. If there was a picture of him from his last birthday, he would look at that for comparison, but Alec has hated birthdays since long before he started dating an immortal being. The last time he had a birthday party, he hadn’t even gotten his stele yet.

Alec walks back into the bedroom and takes a moment to stare at the sleeping warlock half-hidden under the covers. He hasn’t told Magnus that it’s his birthday today and he isn’t planning on it; they never exactly resolved the whole mortality thing beyond agreeing not to worry about it for a while, and the last thing Alec wants to do is remind Magnus that he’s fucking _aging._

By the _Angel,_ this is depressing. It used to be Valentine's preparations for war that kept his mind occupied, but nothing's happened for so long that Alec's brain has been lulled into a false sense of security. And, apparently, has decided to think depressing things nonstop.

Because his brain won’t shut up about it, Alec decides that the only way to successfully make it through the day is to keep himself distracted. With that goal firmly in mind, he licks his lips and gets back in bed, pressing up against Magnus’ side and dropping kisses over the warm skin of his throat.

xxx

After Alec starts (and finishes) a round of very distracting morning sex, Magnus does some distracting of his own by dragging Alec into the bathroom for a very, very thorough shower. Next up is coffee and cereal, then after that, Alec asks Magnus if there are any outdoor markets going on during the afternoon. Magnus seems surprised but doesn’t question it, so they end up spending their afternoon at a Saturday flea market down the street.

Alec knows he’s being uncharacteristically enthusiastic about going out, but Magnus definitely doesn’t seem to mind. They have lunch at the market and window shop for a few hours afterwards - well, Alec window-shops and Magnus actual-shops - and then return to Magnus’ loft.

It’s been a successful day of distractions so far, Alec thinks. He’s flipping through various takeout menus, trying to decide where they should order dinner from, while Magnus mixes them drinks.

“Shall we invite your siblings over for dinner?” Magnus asks, perching next to him on the couch. “You seem to be feeling social, my love.”

“Nope,” Alec says quickly.

A little _too_ quickly, judging by the look on Magnus’ face, but what is Alec _supposed_ to say? If Jace and Izzy come over, worst case they’ll blow Alec’s cover completely by mentioning his birthday, best case he won’t be able to stop _thinking_ about the fact that he’s a year older and will end up miserable anyway.

“Are you upset with them?” Magnus asks, looking intrigued. “Or are they upset with you?”

Alec shakes his head. “Nah, nothing like that. I just - um, I thought it could just be… us, tonight.”

“Alexander,” Magnus coos. He sounds delighted, and Alec tries not to feel guilty.

After all, he _does_ want to spend time with Magnus. That part’s not a lie.

He leans over and kisses Magnus on the cheek, nuzzles closer and makes a noise when Magnus turns his face and presses their lips together. Alec closes his eyes and begs himself to stay in the moment, focusing on Magnus’ body heat and the fluttering of Magnus’ eyelashes against his cheek instead of the fact that he’s not going to be able to have this forever.

Alec lets his brain shut off when Magnus climbs into his lap, settling gracefully on top of him as Alec wraps his arms around his waist. Magnus’ mouth tastes like the mojito he just made, lime and mint and sugar, and Alec sighs quietly and traces the contours of his mouth with his tongue, rucking his shirt up a little to rub over his lower back.

The takeout menus get crumpled under Magnus’ back when Alec scoots and turns them so he can lay Magnus out on the couch.

His boyfriend makes grabby hands at him. “Alexander.”

Alec crawls on top of him, helplessly under his spell as he settles comfortably between Magnus’ spread legs and claims his mouth again. Magnus is the only person who’s ever made him feel completely comfortable in his own skin.

Magnus flicks his wrist lazily and some soft music starts pouring out of the speakers in the corners of the room; Alec shifts on top of him, hearing the menus crinkle underneath their combined weight as they’re crushed into the couch.

He’s starting to get hard, starting to wonder if this is going to stay a lazy makeout or escalate into something more involved, when the buzzer to Magnus’ loft rings shrilly and pops their little bubble. It startles Alec and he breaks the comfortable rhythm of their mouths to lean up, peering over the couch suspiciously.

Magnus rolls his eyes and waves a hand to amplify his voice. “Who is it?”

“Izzy,” Isabelle’s voice says through the speaker a moment later.

 _Shit._ Alec forgot about his fucking birthday.

Magnus’ face lights up and he nudges Alec to get off of him, clearly not sensing Alec’s distress. “Come on in, darling, we were just thinking of ordering food!”

He walks over to the door and buzzes her up even as Alec jogs over to him in a panic. “But Magnus-”

“Alexander, she came all this way,” Magnus tells him, hand on the doorknob. Then his eyes light up and he sings, “Came all this way, all this way - take a break! Run away with us for the summer, let’s go upstate!”

Alec realizes Magnus is quoting that musical they saw a few weeks ago, _Hamilton._ Any other time it would make him smile - Magnus is _obsessed_ with the soundtrack and practically has it memorized - but he really _really_ needs Izzy to _not_ come in here.

Magnus is still humming that song from _Hamilton_ when he opens the door, and Alec grits his teeth when he sees Izzy standing there holding a fucking _cupcake._

“Happy birthday, big brother!” she blurts out before Alec can say anything.

She pulls him into a hug and he hears Magnus’ humming stop abruptly. Isabelle’s warm against him, but suddenly Alec feels cold all over.

“I know you wouldn’t want anything fancy, so I just got you this,” she continues as she pulls back, clearly not noticing that neither of them are reacting appropriately. “Wow, the place looks normal! How’d you convince Magnus not to go all out and cover everything in glitter and streamers?”

Magnus clears his throat, plastering a smile on his face and avoiding Alec’s eyes. “The most convincing argument is apparently not informing me at all.”

xxx

After an extremely uncomfortable dinner with the most difficult, forced small talk Alec’s ever had to make with the two people in his life closest to him, Izzy leaves and Alec immediately makes for the bedroom.

“Alexander-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Alec says, stripping off his shirt and face-planting onto the bed.

xxx

Alec wakes up the next morning just after sunrise, feeling fine for a handful of seconds until he remembers what happened yesterday. He turns and sees Magnus sleeping with his back to him, breathing softly and curled in on himself like a cat. An invisible fist tightens around Alec’s heart.

Instead of addressing his problems, Alec does what he does best and ignores them, deciding to head over to the Institute and put in some hours at the gym. He gets dressed quickly and quietly, careful not to wake Magnus as he moves around the room in the low light, then hightails it out of the loft, skipping breakfast entirely.

Alec activates his mundane invisibility and speed runes and takes the streets of Brooklyn two at a time, sincerely hoping that no one else is awake in the Institute so he can take out his frustrations on the punching bag in peace. Once he gets there, though, he sees that Jace is already in the gym, doing bench presses without a spotter like he _always_ does, the idiot.

“Jace, you really need to have someone else in here when you’re doing that,” Alec tells him, shrugging off his jacket.

Jace snorts and sets the barbell on the support beam, flexing his fingers. “Hello to you too, Mom.”

“Shut up,” says Alec. “You can keep going if you want, I didn’t mean to - I just came to-”

“Rip bicep curls at six in the morning?” Jace asks, sitting up from the bench. “Yeah, that’s totally normal for you, Alec.”

Alec sighs and adjusts his gloves. “You wanna spar?”

“Oh, so we’re not gonna talk about whatever’s bothering you, that’s cool,” says Jace. He stands up from the bench and rolls his shoulders a couple times. “I can work with that. Let’s go, buddy.”

Ten minutes later, Jace seems like he’s regretting his words, and Alec can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Alec - _Alec,_ Jesus, alright, you win,” he croaks, his voice hoarse from the forearm Alec has pressed to his throat. “God _damn.”_

Alec rolls off of him and lays facedown on the mat, wondering why he doesn’t feel any better. He just feels tired. And sweaty.

“Is something up with you and Magnus?” Jace asks eventually, clearing his throat a few times to make his voice work. “I think you bruised one of my ribs, dude.”

“Sorry,” Alec mumbles into the mat. “Magnus didn’t do anything, we just - I’m, uh… I’m an idiot but it’s not exactly my fault?”

“Yeah, how bout you run that by me again?”

Alec groans and rolls over so he can at least speak clearly while he flounders and tries to find his words. “I - so you know how Magnus is immortal? As in, he doesn’t age?” Jace nods. “And how I _do?_ ”

“Right,” Jace says, like the concept hadn’t even occurred to him before.

“I’ve just been feeling super self-conscious about that lately, ‘cause of my birthday and all,” says Alec.

Jace nods in understanding. “Right, happy belated, by the way. You never replied to my text yesterday, but I figured that was just because of your general hatred for birthdays.”

“Well, for _this_ birthday I didn’t wanna be reminded of it at all,” Alec says. “And it was going great until Izzy showed up at Magnus’ loft with a fucking _cupcake.”_

“Classic Izzy. And, like - that sucks, dude, I can’t relate but I totally understand why it would suck to turn a year older when you’re dating someone who, uh, _doesn’t,_ but I’m not sure I deserved to get my windpipe crushed for that.”

“I didn’t _crush_ your _windpipe,”_ Alec mutters. When Jace looks at him pointedly, Alec gulps and continues, “And Izzy reminding _me_ wasn’t the problem. I sort of, um… I sort of - didn’t tell Magnus it was my birthday?”

“Oh, _shit,”_ Jace breathes. “So he found out when Izzy showed up? _Dude.”_

“Yeah.” Alec scrubs a hand over his face and blows all the breath out of his lungs. “I woke up, like, _way_ before him this morning just so we wouldn’t have to talk about it.”

“Wait, so why didn’t you wanna tell him again?”

“Listen, I’m self-conscious about the whole mortality thing _every_ day, but I feel like it actually would’ve come _up_ yesterday,” says Alec. “I just - I didn’t want to - remind him.”

Jace turns to look at him. “Alec, he _knows._ It’s just how you guys are, right? I don’t think he needs reminding, he probably thinks about it just as much as you do.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Alec admits. Jace just looks at him some more, slowly raising an eyebrow, so he swallows heavily and continues, “The more he thinks about it, the sooner he’ll break up with me.”

It feels terrible saying it out loud. Alec rolls over onto his side and groans, the pain from their sparring finally catching up to him, before he’s surprised by Jace’s hand on his shoulder.

“I, uh… I really don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Alec rolls over to stare at his brother, confused and apprehensive at the same time from the way Jace’s voice sounds. “What?”

Jace’s eyes are shifty. “Look, I - remember that one time you and Magnus had people over for drinks and we all got super shitfaced and had to sleep over?”

Alec laughs. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well,” Jace says slowly, “Magnus and I were the last two people up after the rest of you passed out, and he got all emotional and shit once we did another shot. It’s a miracle I even remember any of what he said, like - actually, you know what, that’s not important, and I don’t wanna betray his, uh, trust or anything - which is saying a _lot,_ you know, because I don’t even like the guy-”

“Aw, you do so like him,” Alec grins. “You guys keep trying to pretend you don’t get along but you _do.”_

Jace glares at him. “What I’m trying to _say_ is that - you have all these reasons in your head about why he’s gonna leave you, right?” Alec nods. “Well, so does Magnus. There’s a flip side to all of them.”

Alec doesn’t understand. Why on earth would _Magnus_ be afraid that _Alec’s_ going to leave him? Magnus is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “But-”

“By the _Angel,_ Alec, you guys are _obsessed_ with each other but you’re wasting all this time worrying about what’s gonna happen way, _way_ in the future! What’s wrong with you? I wasn’t even this worried about my feelings for Clary when I thought we were brother and _sister,_ for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up, man,” Alec says, responding to that part of what Jace said because his brain’s still trying to process the rest of it.

Jace cuffs him on the side of the head and they both snicker. “You liked me for _years,_ dude.”

Alec groans. “Jace, I was just figuring out I was gay and you were-”

“Irresistible, I know,” Jace says, gesturing to himself. Alec rolls his eyes and they both laugh again. “Seriously though, dude, go home and grovel or do whatever you usually do after you guys fight.” Alec blushes. _“Gross.”_

“That’s the spirit,” Alec teases him.

They lay there in silence for a little bit, until Jace cracks his neck and wheezes out a breath. “Please go back to Magnus so I can lick my wounds by myself.”

_“Gross.”_

xxx

Alec is smiling when he leaves the Institute, cheered up by Jace’s clumsy pep talk, but the closer he gets to Magnus’ loft, the faster the smile slips from his face. He presses on even as his stomach churns with nerves, the rising sun warming his face as he walks through Brooklyn toward a conversation he _desperately_ wants to avoid.

He takes the stairs up to Magnus’ loft slowly after using his key to unlock the front door. Magnus’ two keys are purple and glittery on his keyring, easy to find in the sea of silver and gold keys Alec has for various other things; Alec smiles a little despite himself.

When he enters the loft, he finds Magnus in the kitchen, wrapped in a green silk bathrobe.

“Hi, Alec,” Magnus says without turning around.

Alec’s stomach hurts - he doesn’t miss the way Magnus fails to call him _Alexander._ He crosses the kitchen to see what Magnus is working on, and realizes that he’s mixing pancake batter. “Magnus, I-”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you had a good reason,” Magnus says, his voice hollow.

Alec feels cold, still, so he tentatively wraps his arms around Magnus’ middle and rests his chin on his shoulder, pressing close after a second when his boyfriend doesn’t protest. He has no doubt that Magnus is very capable of holding (deserved) grudges for long periods of time, so he has to explain himself, and _fast._ He decides to just bite the fucking bullet and jump in. “Do you remember our first date?”

Magnus ducks his head, unsuccessfully hiding a small smile. “Yes. Everything it entailed, yes.”

“Even, like, the first part of it with the really sad and depressing conversation?”

“Yes,” Magnus says after a pause.

God, why is it so hard for Alec to just _say_ it? _‘Oh, does it ever make you sad that you’re going to watch me grow old and die?’_ Right, that’s why. “Magnus, I’ve - I don’t like being reminded that we’re - not the same. And I guess that makes me selfish, ‘cause I’m not the one who has to watch me… well, yeah.” Magnus sucks in a breath and leans back so they’re flush together, and Alec tightens his arms around Magnus’ middle. “I don’t want either of us to have to think about that more than we have to, you know? So that’s why I didn’t tell you. That it was my birthday.”

Magnus’ mouth curls in a bitter smile. “You don’t have to spare me like that, my love. Over the years I’ve learned to withstand quite the emotional burden.”

“Yeah, but that’s why I said I was being selfish,” Alec mumbles into his neck. “I wanted to... spare myself, I guess. I don’t like thinking about it.” _I don’t want to get older._

“Alexander.” Magnus finally turns around to look at him properly, and Alec clings to him and presses their foreheads together, still too ashamed to meet his eyes. “I don't like thinking about it either, but I also don't want us to miss out on things because we’re too busy worrying.”

Alec groans sadly, low in his throat, and kisses Magnus’ forehead. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry, darling,” Magnus says, brushing a hand over his cheek. “I just - I just thought you didn't _care_ enough to tell me it was your birthday. I understand now why you did it.”

“I'm still sorry,” says Alec, finally meeting his eyes.

Magnus smiles. “I know. You can start making it up to me by eating these funfetti cake batter pancakes, since I didn't get to make you a birthday cake.”

“Oh my god,” Alec laughs, peering over Magnus’ shoulder to see that there are, indeed, rainbow sprinkles in the pancake batter. He kisses Magnus’ neck and hugs him close - god, he'll eat as many birthday cakes as Magnus wants as long as his boyfriend really isn't mad at him.

“And then,” Magnus continues, “you can _finish_ making it up to me by letting me take you on a trip this weekend.”

“A trip?” Alec asks, suspicious.

“Just a little getaway,” Magnus continues, spinning them around once before pulling back to smile at him. He's so, so beautiful. “A fun weekend jaunt. Making you happy makes me happy, remember?”

“Okay,” Alec agrees, rubbing his thumbs over Magnus’ hips. Whatever makes Magnus happy, at this point, since Alec was such a dick yesterday he feels like he doesn’t deserve happiness right now. Plus it’ll be nice to get out of New York.

“Now go sit down and let me bring you birthday pancakes,” Magnus orders him, steering him to the breakfast bar where a plate’s already waiting.

xxx

Magnus is so secretive and quietly excited over the days leading up to their “getaway” that Alec is shocked to discover, upon stepping through the travel portal with Magnus’ hand clutched tightly in his own, that he’s in familiar territory.

“London?” He asks, taking in the red double-decker buses turning toward signs marked _Kings Cross_. “Again?”

Magnus chuckles and links their arms together. “Try to sound _less_ excited, my love.”

“Oh, I - sorry,” Alec says immediately. “I just thought, well, haven’t we already been here?”

“We have,” Magnus replies. “That’s why we’re not staying in London.” He steers them in the direction of signs pointing to _Saint Pancras._ “But I gave you a warlock’s tour of London, Alexander, so I want to give you a mundane tour of our ultimate destination. We’re taking a train.”

“A _mundane_ tour?” Alec asks, his lip curling slightly.

“Oh, just a non-magical tour,” Magnus chatters as crowds of people bustle around them. “I thought you could see the city as most of its inhabitants do.”

Alec feels naked without his invisibility rune activated, knowing that all these mundanes can see him. _Both_ of them. “So that’s why you made me deactivate my runes.”

“Mhmm,” hums Magnus. “Now you just look like you have a bunch of sexy tattoos.”

He rubs up and down Alec’s arm and Alec blushes, automatically glancing around to see if anyone is judging them. To his surprise, no one spares them a second glance, except for one or two girls who smile shyly at them and then look away.

“How long is the train ride?” Alec asks as they walk inside the train station, which turns out to be _huge._

“Well, I’d say about three hours, considering it’s to...” says Magnus, fiddling around in his cardigan pocket. “Paris! Ta-daa!”

He brandishes two tickets in his hands and waves them in Alec’s face, beaming. Alec smiles reflexively, mirroring his boyfriend’s expression before he even processes the words that just came out of his mouth.

“That’s in… France, right?”

“Yes it is,” Magnus confirms. Then he arches an eyebrow and says, “It’s also known as the city of love, and I have a gorgeous flat overlooking the Champ de Mars we can use as a home base while we explore.”

He looks so excited that Alec can’t help but be excited with him, even though his idea of a good time is a quiet weekend spent in Magnus’ loft. “Can we see the Eiffel Tower?”

“You can see it from my flat,” Magnus says, “and of course we can see it up close as well.”

He takes Alec’s hand in his own and tugs him toward a mundane security line, which makes Alec snort (as if the all the harmful materials in the world are made of metal). They don’t have suitcases with them - Magnus had sent them ahead before they portaled here - but Magnus has a large carry-all slung over his shoulder and he’d given Alec a backpack so they wouldn’t look suspicious.

It’s about a fifteen-minute wait in the “security” line. Alec’s gotten so used to Magnus’ eccentric style of dressing that it’s kind of jarring to see him next to all of these mundane travelers, who seem to be dressed for comfort only, which is the route Alec himself usually goes. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a thin grey sweater, whereas Magnus is wearing white skinny jeans, a pink cropped tank top, and a long gold cardigan that shimmers when he moves. He’s wearing Alec’s arrowhead necklace, too, as always. It doesn’t surprise Alec anymore but it still makes him feel warm and desperate inside all the same.

Alec watches Magnus take off some of his jewelry in preparation for passing through the metal detector - he fiddles with then removes the ear cuff, unhooks some of his necklaces, and shucks most of his rings into the bin that the security guard provides. Then Alec realizes he’s standing there grinning like an idiot and quickly follows Magnus’ lead in getting ready for the metal detector, not wanting to draw attention to himself by holding up the line.

Magnus is checking his makeup in a hand mirror and making little adjustments with an eyeliner pencil by the time Alec gets his shoes back on and makes his way over to him on the other side. A few mundanes are looking at Magnus strangely, whispering to each other after they pass him, and Alec is unexpectedly hit with a wave of fondness so strong it _aches._

“Hel _lo_ ,” Magnus says, his voice pleased, when Alec wraps arms around his waist from behind and tucks his chin over his shoulder.

“Hi,” Alec grins. “I love you.”

Magnus leans back into him. “I love you too.” He turns his head to peck Alec on the lips. “I hope you’re alright with this - I kind of went out on a limb hoping you’d be okay going to a place that doesn’t really speak English.”

“Well, since you have a place there, I’m gonna assume you speak French,” Alec mumbles into his neck. “So you can translate stuff for me.”

“Oh, I can do more than that,” Magnus purrs. Alec blushes against his neck and makes a small noise when Magnus steps away. “Come on, my love, your birthday weekend awaits.”

He starts to feel a little less excited when they get on the train - mundanes, mundanes _everywhere._ There’s a group of noisy schoolchildren sitting together over a couple of rules, a frazzled-looking chaperone trying to read something to them off of a clipboard, and a couple with two young children sitting a few rows away from them, and that’s just the ones Alec sees in the first couple of seconds he scopes out the cabin.

Magnus tugs him down the aisle and Alec eyes everyone warily, especially the four guys dressed in colored tracksuits who are passing around a flask and laughing so hard they have tears in their eyes.

“What time is it?” Alec asks curiously.

Magnus ushers him into an empty row that must be reserved for the two of them, then checks his watch. “Three in the afternoon. Why do you ask?”

“It’s a little early to drink, isn’t it?” Alec whispers, jutting a thumb back at the boys behind them.

“You have to remember who you’re talking to, Alexander,” Magnus says with a smirk.

Alec rolls his eyes and knocks his head against Magnus’ shoulder. There’s no one across from them yet, so he’s able to stretch out his legs under the little table instead of folding them up underneath it. “How long did you say the train ride was?”

“A little over three hours,” Magnus tells him. “We’ll be going under the English channel for the first part of it, but then we get to see the beautiful French countryside.”

“What do - um, what do mundanes normally _do_ for three hours?” Alec asks, suddenly aware of how little he knows about the most common species on Earth. “Since we’re doing the, uh, that kind of tour and all.”

Magnus arches an eyebrow at him. “Your Nephilim superiority is showing, darling.”

Alec blushes. “I didn’t - I just-”

“It’s alright,” Magnus laughs. He brushes a piece of hair off of Alec’s forehead and Alec leans into his touch. “You’re already leagues ahead of most Shadowhunters, you know - you’ve proven to be exceptionally tolerant of warlocks.” He leans over and presses a soft kiss to Alec’s lips. “Learning to appreciate mundanes is the natural next step.”

“Not in the same way I appreciate warlocks,” Alec grins, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm, definitely not,” Magnus purrs. He runs a hand through Alec’s hair and scratches lightly over his scalp, and Alec has to fight off a shiver. _“So._ Mundane appreciation 101 - since they can’t travel by any sort of enhanced means, they’re very adept at amusing themselves for long periods of time. Books, card games, movies, people-watching, you name it.”

When the train starts up and gets moving, Alec sees that he’s right. While he himself is already bouncing his knee and trying to stave off boredom, the couple who’s settled across from them is excitedly flipping through a Paris tourism book, while the boys behind them sound like they’re playing some sort of card game.

It’s nice. It’s - simple.

Magnus’ hand is warm on his thigh. Alec wonders how many little peaceful pockets like this exist all over the world.

He really wants to kiss Magnus right now, but he figures that using kissing as a way to kill time is probably frowned upon on public transportation.

Instead, he asks Magnus, “Do you have the weekend all planned out?”

As they travel through the tunnel under the English channel, lights in the train’s aisle pushing out against the blackness outside their windows, Magnus lays out their plans for the weekend, sounding more excited with every breath he takes.

“I figured we could do some sightseeing on Sunday, since we’ll be arriving too late tonight to do any sort of daytime exploration, and go to dinner tonight. I promise not to tell the waiter that it’s your birthday.” Alec laughs. “And I’m _slightly_ ashamed to admit that I didn’t choose Paris for our getaway purely because I thought it would be interesting for you. It’s an important week for fashion in Paris and I wanted to see some of the shows tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Alec breathes.

Magnus raises and eyebrow. “For what?”

“I didn’t - I’d just - I’d feel weird if we were just doing stuff for _me_ and not for you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Alexander,” Magnus smiles. “Making you happy makes me happy.”

He _always_ says shit like that. “You can’t mean that.”

Magnus tilts his head and his smile grows wider. “Every time. _But,_ I think I’ll be even happier once you finally learn to appreciate fashion.”

Once the train crosses under the channel, they re-emerge above ground to green fields that remind Alec of upstate New York, only with fewer trees and cuter cottages. He can’t take his eyes off the plots of green and pale yellow that roll by; there are some hills that he can’t see past, at least on his side of the train, and he imagines that maybe they go on for a long time. He wonders what life is like for the mundanes that live out here. There’s an Institute in Paris, but Alec isn’t aware of any others in France; he thinks it might do Shadowhunters some good to spend time in places like the ones they’re passing.

He looks over at Magnus, maybe just to see if the warlock is as enamored with the scenery as he himself is, but Magnus isn’t looking out the window - he’s looking at Alec with a soft smile on his face.

“What?” Alec asks after a moment, blinking a few times.

“Nothing, my love,” Magnus says quietly. _“Now,_ I’ve gotten us reservations for tonight at one of my favorite restaurants, and they love me enough to bypass the three-month waiting list for reservations but not enough to waive the jacket requirement, which is why I asked you to bring your suit over last night so I could portal it, and…”

xxx

By the time the train arrives in Paris, Alec’s arm has fallen asleep and he’s starting to feel antsy, like he needs to stretch his entire body. The mundanes sitting around them seem to feel the same way, though - they’re starting to get up and pace around the cabin, stretching their arms above their heads as the train pulls into the station.

“Magnus,” Alec murmurs, nudging his boyfriend very gently. “Magnus, we’re here.”

The warlock had fallen asleep on Alec’s shoulder about an hour ago, probably because the exertion of portaling them across the Atlantic had finally caught up with him. Alec had wanted to wrap an arm around his shoulders, but by the time Magnus fell asleep on him Alec didn’t want to disturb him, so he’d let his arm slowly go numb for the past hour.

Alec uses his other arm to grip Magnus’ shoulder and tries again. “Magnus?”

Magnus blinks awake, leaning up from Alec’s shoulder sleepily as he starts to glance around. “We’re at Gare du Nord already?”

“If that’s the station, then yes,” Alec replies. “No one’s getting off yet, but the train’s stopped.”

Magnus blinks again. “Did you get any sleep?”

“No,” says Alec. “Too much… new stuff, if that makes sense.”

“Oh, it definitely does,” Magnus smiles. He glances at his watch. “Unfortunately, we won’t have time to go the full mundane route and take a cab to my flat without risking being late for dinner. I hope you’re alright with portaling to my flat from a stall in the men’s room.”

“I mean, I’m sure there’s more to being a mundane than spending a ton of unnecessary time traveling.”

Magnus huffs out a laugh. “At least you’ve gained some sympathy for them.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Alec agrees. Magnus’ eye makeup is a little smudged from when he was sleeping against Alec’s shoulder, and it’s making Alec’s stomach flutter embarrassingly. Alec can’t resist leaning forward for a quick kiss.

Well - it’s not the _quickest_ kiss they’ve ever had.

By the time Alec leans back, most of the people on the train are standing up and starting to slowly file down the aisle.

“Come on, Alexander, let’s visit the loo,” Magnus chirps, looking immensely pleased with himself as he thumbs over Alec’s swollen lip and then pulls away entirely.

Alec follows him, swallowing heavily and trying not to stare at his ass as they walk down the aisle. He grabs Magnus’ hand as soon as they’re on the platform, glancing at his boyfriend for confirmation that it’s okay; Magnus grins and squeezes his hand, then leads him toward the main hub of the station.

There are lots of different languages being spoken around them, but less of them seem to be variations of English here than in London. Alec listens as Magnus explains several aspects of French culture to him, pointing out where mundanes are in line to exchange currency, in line to buy tickets for the metro, in line to use the bathroom.

“So much waiting,” Alec remarks as they get in the line for the men’s restroom.

“Most of Paris won’t be as crowded as Gare du Nord,” Magnus assures him, rubbing up and down his arm. “Although tourists and panhandlers can get a bit pushy in the historic areas.”

“Just like Manhattan, then,” Alec says.

Magnus laughs. “Yes, exactly like Manhattan.”

It turns out the line for the bathroom is just a line to get through a small turnstile that only lets one person through at a time. Magnus waggles his eyebrows at Alec and produces two coins from the pocket of his cardigan, which he feeds through the turnstile so the two of them can pass through.

“You have to _pay_ to go to the _bathroom?”_ Alec whispers as they slip unnoticed into the same stall.

“Only the public ones,” Magnus says. “It’s the same in much of London, as well - I really spoiled you with the warlock’s tour, my love.”

He scoops his hands through empty air and a portal appears. Alec reaches for his hand and clings tightly, not wanting to get stuck in limbo or, worse, a public restroom surrounded by mundanes.

When they step through the portal and the mist clears, Alec gasps.

“It’s quite impressive up close, but I don’t think it’s too bad from here either,” Magnus says, rubbing the small of his back.

“It’s like,” Alec spreads his hands out in front of him. “Right there. Wow.”

They’re in what must be the living room of Magnus’ flat, and one of the four walls of the room is entirely glass. It’s attached to a balcony with a really, _really_ stunning view of the Eiffel Tower and the park around it. The sky is just starting to turn pink but it’s still mostly blue and sunny, which makes the clouds look like a painting behind the monument.

“Do you have, like… curtains?” Alec asks stupidly.

Magnus chuckles. “Whyever would I need those, Alexander?”

Alec blushes. “I was just wondering. Since it’s - at night, I mean. Nevermind.”

“We’re in a penthouse loft, my love, we’re too far off the ground to be seen,” Magnus drawls.

He kisses the side of Alec’s neck softly; Alec is _sure_ Magnus hears the quiet gasp he breathes in response, but Magnus doesn’t continue any further, instead setting his bag down and walking closer to the glass to survey the city.

Alec takes his backpack off and rocks back on his heels, sighing happily as he takes in Magnus’ form silhouetted against the landscape. Then, for the first time all day - it might be a record, which is definitely a good thing - he thinks about how unfair it is that he doesn’t get to have this forever.

Alec swallows and tells himself that he’s lucky he gets to have this at all.

“I bet it looks really nice at night.”

Magnus turns around, smiling. “Mmm, you won’t have to wait very long to find out. Dinner first, though, we have to be ready to go in twenty minutes - you’re welcome to anything from my closet here, and I sent your jacket over this morning, like I said.”

“So it’s super fancy?” Alec asks, following Magnus through the flat as he peers around and tries to get his bearings. “You’re gonna have to give me a crash course on mundane etiquette.”

“I believe I’m up to the task,” Magnus grins, then tugs him by the front of his shirt into the bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Med school started and I've been swamped with work. Happy to get this out! Check out the rest of the Boundless Saga and be on the lookout for Em's next chapter of the latest installment! <3

“Uh, Magnus?”

“Yes, darling?” Magnus chirps.

“Why did he just unfold my napkin and put it in my lap?” Alec hisses quietly, his cheeks flaming as he watches their waiter, Henri, grab a carafe of water for them. “Does he think I can’t do it myself?”

Magnus laughs. “That’s simply the protocol, Alexander, they’d have people complaining about the service if they _didn’t_ do that.”

Alec makes a face. Magnus didn’t teach him that in his crash course on mundane restaurant etiquette. He’d said that most French restaurants were relaxed with their service so they wouldn’t offend customers by making them feel rushed.

The restaurant _is_ fancy, but it’s fairly small, which is why there must be such a long waiting list. Alec wonders what kind of strings Magnus had to pull to get them reservations here. Stupidly, it makes that fluttering feeling in his stomach return full-force.

“And here we have freshly-sourced spring water,” Henri tells them in accented yet perfect English, unfolding a lace napkin and placing the carafe on top of it. “Unless you would prefer still?”

“What’s the difference?” Alec mouths to Magnus.

“One’s sparkling and one’s not,” Magnus tells him. Alec must pull some sort of face because Magnus continues, “You can decide - or pick both, after all, you’re the birthday boy.”

He claps a hand over his mouth a second later and Alec glares at him, his cheeks heating in embarrassment as Henri _beams_ at him. “Ah, it is your birthday? _Joyeux anniversaire, monsieur_ , happy birthday indeed. We are honored you have chosen to spend it with us.”

“Thanks,” Alec mumbles, feeling like his face is on fire.

“In that case, I will give _you_ the wine list,” Henri says, handing Alec a wine list so thick it’s bound like an actual book, “and I’ll be right back with some still water.”

“I’m sorry, it slipped out,” Magnus says immediately after Henri leaves. He actually looks guilty - upset, even. “They won’t sing or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I was, a little bit,” Alec admits. “And just - worried about the rest of it, everything else, too. But I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

Magnus’ mouth turns up into a smile but his eyes are still terribly sad.

“Don’t make me be the positive one here,” Alec tells him. “I’m trying to make the best of things but you know I’m not good at that.”

That finally makes Magnus laugh. “Don’t sell yourself short, Alexander, you’re good at everything.”

“Not true,” says Alec. “I’m bad at reading French and picking out wines, so please get over here and help me.”

Magnus scoots around the half-circular booth until he’s pressed up against Alec’s side, and Alec relaxes against him, finally comfortable for the first time since they walked into the restaurant. He watches Magnus’ face screw up in concentration as his boyfriend flips quickly through the wine list - wine _book -_ and mutters to himself. Alec is probably going to be mildly disgusted by whatever he picks out, but liking wine is just one of those adult things he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of yet.

He presses his nose to Magnus’ hair and breathes in the smell of his styling gel, strangely familiar in this city that’s half a world away.

Magnus finally seems to decide on a bottle of wine just as Henri brings them still water and two flutes of what he calls “birthday champagne.” Alec groans and hides his face in Magnus’ hair, one part of him secretly pleased to having people pay this much attention to him and another, larger part glad that his siblings aren’t around to see this.

Magnus switches to French as he points to the bottle of wine he’s selected and Henri follows the transition flawlessly, leaving Alec free to look around the restaurant and soak in the different languages being spoken. It’s certainly been a good experience so far, but if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t wait to get back to Magnus’ loft and see what the Eiffel Tower looks like at night.

xxx

(It’s even more beautiful than Alec imagined, lit up and glowing. It’s still sparkling in his peripheral vision as he drops to his knees right there on the loft’s balcony and tries to settle the emotions churning inside him by showing Magnus how grateful he is.)

xxx

 _“Please_ let me get you something for your throat,” Magnus says the next morning, carding his fingers through Alec’s messy hair.

Alec rolls onto his side and snuggles closer as he kicks the covers halfway off the bed. “Magnus, I’m fine.”

Unfortunately, his voice sounds like gravel and cracks halfway through saying three words. Magnus tugs lightly on his hair and arches an eyebrow when Alec looks up at him. _“Anything._ Tea? With honey?”

“Maybe some tea,” Alec allows. He… doesn’t _hate_ the idea of Magnus taking care of him. Just a little bit.

Magnus beams and rolls out of bed completely naked; he combs his fingers through his hair a few times as he walks gracefully out of the room.

The bedroom of the loft has the same glass wall as the living room, facing the bed, and Alec can’t help but blush even though he knows they’re far too high up to be seen. It’s sectioned into windows and a few of them are cracked, letting fresh September air in along with the smell of espresso and the noises of cars from the street. Alec grins a little stupidly to himself and rolls onto his back, sighing happily.

“This had better work,” Magnus says, coming back into the bedroom with two steaming cups of tea. “I wish you had gone easier on yourself last night.”

Alec laughs and takes a mug from him, then croaks, “Really?”

Magnus doesn’t answer for a few seconds - then Alec looks over and realizes he’s trying to keep a straight face. “Gods, no. That was - I’m verbose by nature, as I’m sure you know, but there are no words that come close to how you looked with-”

“Magnus,” Alec cuts him off, suddenly shy and embarrassed.

He takes a sip of tea and it soothes his sore throat almost immediately; he wonders if Magnus put a spell in it along with the honey.

“I’m just glad Paris left you so inspired after only a few hours,” Magnus teases him, his eyes wicked.

Alec groans, then whines because his throat still hurts too much to make that sound. He takes another big gulp of tea and sets it down on the nightstand, then curls into Magnus’ side. “So are we going to a fashion show today?”

 _“Yes,”_ Magnus says immediately, excitement seeping into his voice. “Oh, yes. Several, if we play our cards right and get going soon.”

“Are you supposed to wear anything in particular for a fashion show?”

“Well, as much as I hate to admit it, you’ll do well in your chosen color, or lack thereof,” Magnus drawls. “You should be just fine in your black jeans and a dark button-down - I’m sure a lot of men will be wearing something similarly safe.”

“But not you?” Alec guesses.

Magnus laughs. “No, not me. Your voice sounds better.”

“Throat hurts less, too. Thanks for the tea.”

“Oh, I didn’t have a choice,” says Magnus. “I want my mind focused on fashion today, not wandering back to last night every time you open your mouth.”

“Oh my god,” Alec laughs. “If it’s that much of a hassle then I won’t do it ag-”

“Nonsense, Alexander, no hassle at all,” Magnus cuts him off, an impish grin on his lips. “We have to start our day, my love, I don’t want the bakeries to run out of breakfast pastries before we get down to street level.”

“Couldn’t you just summon some of them up here?” Alec jokes, watching Magnus get up and saunter into the bathroom.

“Mundane tour, Alexander! Mundane tour,” Magnus calls behind him.

xxx

Magnus seems super committed to the whole non-magical concept, which Alec thought he would find annoying, but it’s surprisingly refreshing. They eat breakfast, which Magnus pays for with real money, at a little sidewalk cafe (where Alec discovers that he does _not_ like espresso), and then _walk_ to the fashion shows instead of portaling there.

There’s a big river that cuts through the city and they walk alongside it, encountering more and more well-dressed people as they get closer to their destination. Magnus has an extra spring in his step, and Alec gets kind of giddy seeing him this excited.

“So do we have an actual invite to this thing or is that an exception to your no-magic rule?” Alec asks him, squeezing his hand lightly.

Magnus laughs. “I’ll have you know I’ve had a standing invite for thirteen years, Alexander. I just don’t often take them up on it because I find going to shows alone mildly depressing, but now I have _you,_ my exceedingly handsome plus-one.”

Alec blushes. “I don’t even know how to dress myself.”

“You don’t need to!” Magnus chirps. “Fashion designers get off on telling you how to dress, that’s why these shows exist in the first place. Although, considering this week is devoted to women’s haute couture, I doubt many of these pieces will speak to you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Alec agrees. “I’ll stick to getting fashion advice from you.”

Magnus smiles and swings their joined hands back and forth, skipping a little from how excited he is. He’s wearing a light grey three-piece suit - it’s probably the least flashy thing Alec’s ever seen him wear, but he still can’t take his eyes off of him all the same.

“By the way, Alexander, we’re probably going to run into one or more old acquaintances of mine who will be _very_ curious about you,” Magnus tells him, running a finger up and down Alec’s wrist. “What do you think your story should be?”

“What do you mean?” asks Alec.

Magnus laughs. “Well, you can’t very well say you’re a demon hunter with angel blood running through your veins. You need a cover story, something you’re at least decently knowledgeable about.”

Alec frowns, then looks around for inspiration. He’s obviously not knowledgeable about pretty much anything in Paris, even though the view is nice. “Uh… well, besides hunting, Jace and I train a lot. I think mundanes call it ‘working out.’”

“Oh, excellent,” Magnus exclaims. “So you know about muscle groups and how to keep the body in good physical condition? We can say you’re studying to be a personal trainer.”

“I can’t pretend I train mundanes,” Alec says, his lip curling despite his best efforts.

“Oh, I think you can, darling. Say you’re trying to pioneer a new martial arts technique, that way you can describe how you train normally.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” Alec tells Magnus.

Magnus grins. His face is mostly makeup-free, except for some light eye makeup and a soft contour. He looks stupidly handsome, which isn’t anything new. “I’ve had practice pretending to be a mundane for quite a long time. Anyone we run into today is going to think I’m a former fashion intern who turned to interior design after the nineties and now lives quite comfortably in a Manhattan penthouse. Which, strictly speaking, isn’t entirely false.”

“I’m gonna let you do the talking,” says Alec.

He kisses Magnus’ cheek impulsively. He isn’t sure why, but Paris does have this really romantic feel to it, true to its name.

“Magnus Bane, is that you?”

They both turn around, and Alec sees a stylish middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard who looks like he can barely contain his excitement. There’s a dark-haired man with him, no more than thirty, but he doesn’t seem to recognize Magnus.

“Marc!” Magnus exclaims, dropping Alec’s hand immediately. He skips over and kisses Marc on both cheeks. “How have you been?”

“Fabulous,” says Marc. “Oh, Christ, how long has it been? You look fantastic, haven’t aged a day!”

Alec blanches a little bit, but Magnus grins conspiratorially and stage-whispers, “You really want to know my secret?” Marc nods. “Kate Somerville facials.”

Marc gasps. “I thought you still lived in New York.”

“I do, but I fly out to LA once a month and use her serums religiously in between,” Magnus tells him smoothly. He gestures at his own face. “But it’s a small price to pay, right?”

“I’ll say,” Marc agrees. “I’ll have to give her a call next time I’m out west.” His eyes flash briefly over to Alec and he smirks. “Oh, Magnus, look at us, talking about how to stay young. Terribly rude of us, since our… companions can’t seem to relate.”

Alec blushes, but the man standing next to Marc just laughs and slaps his arm lightly.

“Alec here’s never seen a wrinkle in his life,” Magnus agrees. He turns and smiles at Alec, his eyes dancing with mischief, and Alec can’t help but grin back - even though Marc’s known Magnus longer than Alec has, he clearly isn’t in on Magnus’ biggest secret. “Alec, this is Marc Jacobs, we worked at Louis Vuitton together in the nineties.”

Alec feels his eyes go wide. He might not know much about fashion, but Izzy has a couple of designer pieces that she treasures and she gets mundane fashion magazines sometimes - if Marc Jacobs is a name _Alec_ recognizes, he’s _definitely_ a big deal in the mundane world. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine,” Marc says, his eyes raking up and down Alec’s body in the least subtle way Alec’s ever seen. His face feels like it’s on fire, and his eyes only grow wider when Marc links his arm through Magnus’ and walks him toward the venue. “And that’s Dario. You’ll have to show me where you’re sitting so we can catch up more later, darling, but tell me about what you’ve been up to…”

“So what do you do?” Dario asks Alec as they walk behind the other two.

This must be a common opening question for mundanes. Alec’s glad Magnus helped him prepare for this. “I… I’m studying to be a personal trainer.”

“Oh, that’s awesome,” Dario gushes. “I have a couple of friends who are certified yogis but they all talk about how if they could do it over, they’d become certified personal trainers instead. Apparently it’s more money for less work.”

“Huh,” Alec says. He feels like he’s expected to say something else - Magnus doesn’t seem to be done talking with Marc. “So, uh, what do you do?”

Dario smiles. “Porn.”

Alec almost trips on a loose cobblestone. “Oh. I - uh. So. How’s that… going?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Dario says. “Pays the bills. Well, it really picks up the difference when modeling _doesn’t_ cover everything, know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Alec says slowly. His brain’s still catching up. He wonders if he’s accidentally watched one of Dario’s videos without knowing it. “Do you - do people ever recognize you?”

Dario hums and cocks his head to the side, thinking. “Sometimes. But they probably recognize me more often than they actually come up to me and say, ‘are you the guy from that gay porno I watched the other day?’” Alec snorts quietly. “Half the time they come up to me it's just because they want to talk to Marc, anyway. Obviously at something like this it happens all the time.”

“Ah,” Alec says. “I thought fashion shows were mostly just, uh, people watching the runway. I didn’t realize how social they were.”

“Oh, they’re not that social themselves, but the afterparties are,” says Dario. “Is this your first time at fashion week? I assumed Magnus was a designer.”

Alec tries to remember what Magnus told him about his mundane cover story. “He’s an… interior… designer. So, uh, not a fashion one.”

“He’s very pretty,” Dario gushes, nudging Alec in the side. “And I love his contour.”

Alec flushes, but out of pride and not embarrassment this time. “Yeah. He’s, uh - yeah. Really pretty.” He scratches the back of his head, trying not to mess up the way Magnus had styled his hair.

“And so are you, but I’m sure you get that all the time,” says Dario.

The back of Alec’s neck feels like it’s on fire. He’s not used to being the center of attention for anyone but Magnus, and he’s saved from stuttering through a _thank you_ when they finally reach the front doors of the convention hall.

“Dario, I told Jean-Paul I’d drop by early in the day,” Marc says, finally turning around and dropping Magnus’ arm. “Let’s go backstage after we check in.”

“Did you tell Magnus about the party?” Dario asks him, taking his hand.

Marc grins. “I did.” He waggles his free hand at Magnus and Alec. “We’ll see you boys later tonight.”

Alec’s body is tingling from all the attention, and he sticks close to Magnus after Marc and Dario walk away.

“You held your own in a mundane conversation, Alexander, I’m impressed,” Magnus purrs.

“Thanks.” Alec didn’t know mundanes could leave him feeling so flustered.

Magnus looks at him critically, then smirks. “Yes, humans are quite a bit more forward than Nephilim, aren’t they?”

“Almost as forward as you,” Alec agrees, stomach fluttering when he makes Magnus giggle.

“Well, I had to lock you down before better prospects did,” says Magnus. He slots their fingers together and Alec looks down at their hands; Magnus’ nails are painted a deep red.

Then Magnus’ statement catches up to him. Wait, _what?_

“Magnus, there aren’t - you’re-” _the best thing that’s ever happened to me._

“Shh, it’s okay,” Magnus pats his hand. “Let’s go check in and grab our seats. I can point out all the mundane celebrities to you while we wait for the next show to start.”

He tugs Alec toward the check-in table and Alec follows behind him stupidly, still trying to figure out how to tell Magnus how much he means to him.

xxx

It’s becoming really, _really_ obvious to Alec that he’ll put himself through just about anything if it’ll make Magnus happy.

They’ve been sitting on slim little benches, packed together like sardines, for so long that Alec’s butt is starting to fall asleep. He’s stopped trying to follow along with whatever’s going on up on the catwalk and is watching Magnus’ reactions out of the corner of his eye instead, which are much more interesting.

His boyfriend’s eyes glint whenever he sees something he particularly likes, but Alec’s kind of struggling to figure out how Magnus is going to incorporate these long, flowing dresses into his wardrobe. Not that he minds Magnus in a dress, not at all. There was that one time last month when Magnus put on a tight tight _tight_ black dress and fishnets and they-

Alec takes a deep breath and tells himself to focus, squirming in his seat a little bit. He reminds himself that the dress looked suspiciously like something from Izzy’s closet, which clears his head very efficiently. Good thing, too, since he has a couple more hours left of this. He wonders if Magnus would blame him for activating his Alertness rune.

xxx

“Oh, those last few were _gorgeous,”_ Magnus gushes as they file out of the hall. “I really should be coming to these events more often, at least before people start truly questioning why I haven’t aged.”

Alec covers a yawn behind his hand. “Just make sure no one takes any pictures of you.”

“Yes, being immortal is becoming more and more of a hassle these days,” says Magnus. Alec links their arms together. “Thank you for coming with me, Alexander.”

“You’re welcome. I… learned a lot.”

Magnus laughs. “As did I. I know _exactly_ what styles I’ll be looking for when we go shopping later.”

“I thought someone said there was a party later,” says Alec.

“Oh, there is, but we have to dress to impress,” Magnus chirps. “Marc’s poaching people from the Balmain party for something smaller afterward, and he told me he wants the theme to be a better version of the Met gala this year.”

Alec snorts. He can’t help it. “That literally means nothing to me. So what’s the theme, then?”

 _“Manus x Machina Duo,”_ says Magnus. “We’re going to be wearing mostly metallics, I think. How would you feel about wearing some kind of mesh shirt?”

_“What?”_

“Sorry, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself,” Magnus laughs, squeezing Alec’s arm. “I think we have time for some downtime back at my flat, if that’s something you’re interested in. How about a nap?”

Alec makes a small noise. “A nap? Or a… ‘nap?’”

“Whichever you want, darling. We might be spending the entire day doing things for me, but it’s still _your_ birthday weekend.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Alec grumbles. “I think I need some more distracting, Magnus.”

xxx

If going to a fashion industry party was Magnus’ ultimate plan of distracting Alec, he’s doing a really good job.

“Well don’t you two clean up nicely,” Dario coos at them when he comes to the door. “Marc, come here, you have to see this.”

Alec shivers a little, wishing he was short enough that he could hide behind Magnus. Magnus, who looks _fantastic_ in his little gold hot pants. By the Angel, Alec really needs to stop sneaking glances at his ass.

“Metallics, how groundbreaking,” Marc drones as he steps into the doorway. At Magnus’ affronted expression, he bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, I’m _kidding,_ you two look positively _edible._ Christ, I’m so happy I invited you. Come in, come in.”

“No one’s really left Balmain yet so we’re still getting ready,” Dario tells Alec as they walk down the entrance hallway. “I love the silver and gold. Really works with both of your skin tones! How long did it take you guys to get ready?”

“It took Magnus a couple hours,” Alec laughs. “I just kind of went with whatever he picked out.”

“Oh, I can see that, he totally bosses you around, doesn’t he?” Dario asks with a wink, nudging Alec in the side.

Alec’s face goes hot and he glances over, eyes wide. There’s no judgment in Dario’s eyes, though, just happiness, and… maybe a little bit of heat. He gulps. “He, uh - I guess I, um…”

“Oh my god, look at you, it’s okay,” Dario giggles. “Let’s go get a drink.”

Alec lets Dario pull him away from Magnus toward the bar, which is just as well - he needs a minute to clear his head. He requests a gin and tonic, then fiddles with his own outfit, which is pretty modest compared to Magnus’ hot pants, sleeveless button-down, and suspenders combo, but _super_ racy compared to anything Alec usually wears. Izzy would be proud of his loose, sheer black dress shirt, especially the way it shimmers with silver threads woven into the fabric, even though Alec himself is a little uncertain about putting his chest on display for all these people. He doesn’t mind his silver belt and black pants, though, because they’re closer to what he normally wears.

Dario is just handing him his drink when Magnus catches his eye and grins, sauntering over to them.

“We haven’t even been here one minute and you already have other men buying you drinks, Alexander,” he teases. “This is not boding well for me.”

“You definitely shouldn’t have brought him to an industry party looking like that,” Marc says in passing, making his way over to his bar.

Alec has never gotten this much attention before in his life, and he honestly doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s not a… _bad_ thing, not really, it’s just new. And weird. “It’s an open bar, Magnus, no one’s buying anyone drinks.”

Magnus bursts out laughing. _“That’s_ what you take away from it, of course.”

Marc and Dario get distracted then by more guests arriving, so Alec tugs Magnus close, setting his drink on the counter so he can put both hands on Magnus’ hips. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Magnus murmurs. “I’m so happy you agreed to come to this. How are you feeling?”

“A little weird,” Alec admits. “I, like - it’s a little intense, because you’re the only person I know, and I feel like I’m supposed to talk to people besides you.”

Magnus smiles. “We can talk to people together, Alexander. Silver and gold are definitely a set in this context, and I’m not sure I like the idea of you being cornered by handsy celebrities who’ve had one too many glasses of champagne.”

He slips an arm around Alec’s waist and Alec gets the ridiculous urge to hunch his shoulders down; luckily, he gets distracted by new guests, who are starting to pour in. Whatever party Marc is poaching them from must be winding down.

Over the next two hours, Magnus introduces Alec to a multitude of attractive people whose names go in one ear and out the other. Magnus seems to know a lot of them from what he calls his “industry days,” and he repeats the same line about Kate Somerville facials keeping him young so many times that Alec can probably recite it word for word by now. There are also mundane celebrities, people whose names ring a bell in Alec’s head even though he isn’t sure why, and people that even Magnus doesn’t know - but after enough time and enough free-flowing drinks, Alec feels like he meets practically all of them.

He actually isn’t asked that often about what he personally does; most people seem to assume that he’s some sort of kept boy, or Magnus’ arm candy, or something, which is fine with him because it means he doesn’t have to talk very much. It’s sort of easy for him to zone out, especially with everything that’s happening all at once, but Alec focuses back in on this particular conversation at just the right time.

“...yeah, I’d love to go back to Ireland if I get the chance,” the guy they’re talking to is saying. Alec forgets what his name is, but remembers that he makes movies. Magnus seemed to know him. “Not that I will anytime soon, ‘cause the next movie starts shooting in November. But that’s - Jesus, we’ve talked enough about the two of us, Magnus, your boyfriend looks like he’s bored out of his mind.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Alec says, skin heating under the other man’s assessing grey gaze.

“Alec, right?” He asks. Alec nods, wishing he was as good with names as this guy clearly is. “So what do you do? Are you from New York too? Do we have a trifecta right here?”

Magnus laughs. Alec’s mouth quirks in a little smile and he starts to feel more comfortable. “Yeah, uh, born and raised. I’m - I’m in school to be a personal trainer.”

“Oh, no way,” the other man says, his face lighting up. “I wish I’d brought Don with me, he would love to pick your brain about the way they’re bringing new guys into the fold these days. He’s my personal trainer, if that wasn’t clear, sorry. But if there’s anything he hates more than fashion shows, it’s seeing guys hit on me. Brings all these protective instincts out.”

Magnus laughs again. “I’m sure that’s a great time for you.”

“Yeah, he’s ruined a couple potential hookups. I’ve had to tell him to fuck off a few times.” Then he turns his head at something being shouted across the room. “I gotta go say hi to Mike, but it was great seeing you. And meeting you, respectively. Hey, we should get together sometime when we’re all back in New York! Don’t know when that’s gonna happen, because the schedule for Infinity War is crazy, but I love hearing about all your designing stuff, Magnus.”

“Absolutely,” Magnus says smoothly. They exchange a round of hugs, and then the grey-eyed man takes off, snagging another flute of champagne on his way across the room.

“How are you doing?” Magnus asks Alec, tugging on his sleeve.

“Good,” Alec says honestly. “I think I might need a little break, though. Just to, like, breathe.”

“Indeed,” Magnus says, quirking an eyebrow as he links his arm through Alec’s. “You’re quite popular, my love. I’ve been fending off quite a few jealous stares.”

There’s a weird feeling in Alec’s stomach; he’s not used to this, to any of this, and it feels odd talking to so many people who only see his outward appearance, who don’t know that he’s a Shadowhunter, don’t know or care that he’s the Lightwoods’ eldest son. It takes a lot of the pressure off, but he’s genuinely confused why he would be interesting to any of these people. “What? Why?”

“You’re so sweet,” says Magnus. “I have to keep reminding myself that queer Nephilim keep themselves tightly closeted. What else could possibly explain why you’re not used to attention from people you’re attracted to?”

Alec never thought it about like that. It is true, in a way - he used to get attention from girls in the Institute, before they all realized that he wasn’t going to return it. “It’s not like I’m attracted to everybody here.”

“There are a lot of beautiful people here, though,” Magnus muses as they walk into a less crowded hallway. There’s a twinge of bitterness in his voice. “I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

Alec stops them from moving any more, crowding Magnus against a wall gently to let some people pass. Magnus won’t look at him, won’t meet his eyes, even though he’s the only person whose attention Alec wants. He tells him so, hoping that it snaps Magnus out of his funk.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Magnus smirks. “Your eyes shift around when we start talking with someone new like you can’t wait to get out of the conversation before it’s even started. I just…” the smile falls from his face, and he looks like he’s about to say something else, but then he rolls his shoulders a couple of times and blinks up at Alec coyly. “I wanted to give us time to recharge before we talked to anyone else.”

“Recharging during a party is an introvert thing,” Alec smiles at him, rubbing up and down his arms. He pecks Magnus on the lips softly. “You don’t have to take time away from your… friends, or people, or whatever you consider them, just because I need a break.”

The glamor on Magnus’ eyes drops for a millisecond, enough to take Alec’s breath away (just like it always does) even though it’s barely noticeable. His chest tightens as Magnus’ smirk returns. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, Alexander, I assure you.”

He grabs Alec’s wrist and tugs him down the hallway, rubbing his thumb over Alec’s skin as he inspects the various rooms they come across. Once they find a good place to be alone, Alec definitely needs to ask Magnus what that weird little moment of insecurity was about, because he’s not completely oblivious. Why on earth would Alec want to pay attention to any of those other people when Magnus is _right here?_

It’s a nice thought, it definitely is, but Alec’s intentions fly out the window when Magnus finds a suitable empty room and pulls him inside, locking it with a flick of his wrist and dropping the glamor on his eyes as he falls to his knees.

A jumble of words dies in Alec’s throat. _“Magnus.”_

“You really do like my eyes like this, don’t you?” Magnus grins.

“I really, really do,” Alec agrees, swallowing loudly in happy anticipation. That makes Magnus smile and even _blush_ a little, ridiculously, but his hands fly to Alec’s belt buckle and Alec focuses on that instead. “You’re seriously taking the mundane route for everything on this trip, aren’t you?”

“Almost everything, yes,” Magnus purrs, voice like silk as he gets Alec’s belt undone and goes for the button on his pants. “This door doesn’t have a lock, so I used magic for that.” He slides Alec’s zipper down. “And I’m not above using a little sex magic. Mundanes don’t know what they’re missing.”

He’s using both hands to slide Alec’s pants down but a tingling, electric warmth, just on the pleasurable side of painful, starts to build in the base of Alec’s balls. Alec groans quietly, head tipping back against the wall as his cock thickens and begins to tent the front of his briefs.

“Yes, it would be such a shame to rob you of that,” Magnus continues, almost like he’s talking to himself.

“What if - _ah -_ what if someone hears us?” Alec stammers.

Magnus’ cat eyes are wicked as he carefully draws Alec’s briefs down, licking his lips when his cock springs free. “Oh, I hardly think anyone here would blame me.”

_“Magnus.”_

“In fact,” Magnus continues, leaning forward and kissing the tip of Alec’s cock, “I almost hope they do. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

“Yours,” Alec moans. His legs are getting weak from the insistent, constant pleasure of the magic inside him, and from the teasing licks Magnus has started to trace around his cockhead. It feels like just a second ago they were in the main room socializing, now Alec’s muffling a gasp as Magnus’ mouth slides over him. He wonders why it turns it on so much to think about people maybe hearing them, people knowing what they’re _doing. “Yours.”_

“Mine,” Magnus agrees, pausing for only a second before taking Alec back inside. He bobs down a couple of times, sucking so hard that one of Alec’s hands flies unbidden into his hair, then pulls back again. “My angel.”

Words die in his throat and Alec nearly sobs when Magnus takes all of him the next time he goes down.

xxx

An embarrassingly short ten minutes later, Alec stumbles out of the room they’d temporarily claimed, trailing behind Magnus and clutching at his hand. His face is hot - whole body, actually, flushed with embarrassment and release and heat - and his spent dick keeps twitching when he thinks about how Magnus swallowed his come only a few minutes ago and is now going back to socializing like nothing happened.

Magnus grabs them two flutes of champagne and smiles a little private grin at Alec, tongue darting out to lick his lips before tossing half of his back in one gulp. Alec does the same, resisting the urge to bury his head in the crook of Magnus’ shoulder.

“I have a few more people I want to say hello to, but we don’t have to stay too much longer,” Magnus says. His voice is rough.

Alec glances around and spots Dario by the bar. “Alright, I’ll be by the bar. Unless you, uh, want me to come with.”

“Not unless _you_ want to,” Magnus tells him. “It’s been a long night.”

Alec nods and they part ways after a quick kiss. He heads toward the bar and hopes Dario doesn’t give him too much shit for how red his face is.

xxx

There must be something in the air in Paris. Or the water. Or something, because by the _Angel,_ Paris has turned Alec into a fan of morning sex, something months of sleeping over at Magnus’ apartment hadn’t managed to do.

He whimpers and turns his face to the side, gasping in sharp breaths as the rising sun warms his face.

“Oh, you are so beautiful,” Magnus murmurs.

Alec moans and arches his back, pushing up against the gentle thrust of Magnus’ hips. _“Fuck.”_

Magnus kisses the back of his neck and presses deeper; the head of his cock grazes Alec’s prostate and Alec bites his lip and pushes back onto it, turning his head the other way so he doesn’t have to look right into the sun.

He feels a little prickle of magic run through the air, then looks the other way and realizes Magnus lowered the shades just enough to block out the sun.

Alec laughs giddily. “Thanks for leaving the - _nnh -_ the view.”

“Oh, of course,” Magnus purrs. “After all, we can have sex with the shades drawn back home, but with a full view of the Champ de Mars-” he grips Alec’s hips and thrusts hard- “that’s not something you get every day.”

Alec reaches back and feels around until he finds one of Magnus’ hands, then holds on tightly. Magnus kisses the back of his neck and rolls his hips, filthy, so that Alec can feel every inch of him. _“Gods.”_

He pulls his hand from Magnus’ but only so he can prop himself up on both knees, bracing his elbows on the bed and hanging his head between them. Alec must look obscene but he’s too sleepy to have any shame, too in love with Magnus to even consider holding himself back. This angle is even better and he knows Magnus gets better leverage like this and it’s _so fucking good_.

“You have no idea - how hard it was - to plan _any_ activities this weekend,” Magnus breathes out, running a clever hand down Alec’s back. Alec turns his head for a second to grin at him, loving the way Magnus’ hair is mussed up from sleep and sweat. “When we could’ve just - stayed in bed - with this view.”

His next thrust pushes the head of his cock right over Alec’s prostate and Alec moans, trying to keep his back arched as his cock drools precome. “What about - your fashion shows?”

Magnus pushes inside and stays there, circling his hips teasingly while he leans down to bite at Alec’s shoulder. “Give yourself some credit, Alexander.”

Alec presses back, trying to get him to move again, and throws his head back and moans when Magnus pins him to the bed.

“Oh, you’re an angel,” Magnus purrs, tonguing along the shell of his ear. “What did I possibly do to deserve you, hmm?”

Most of Alec flushes at the praise but some part of his brain registers that weird flare of Magnus’ insecurities, and he should really talk to Magnus about that at some point, he _really_ should, but he can’t really make sentences right now.

He opens his eyes again and looks out at Paris, trying not to drool as he bites the pillow. He has a fleeting thought about the city’s skyline, about how there’s hundreds, maybe even _thousands_ of major cities like this that he never would’ve thought to explore before meeting Magnus - and then it’s gone, replaced by gut-wrenching pleasure when Magnus leans back up and grips his hips with both hands, starting up his rhythm again.

For a while neither of them speak in favor of running their hands over each other and gasping out moans. Alec has to snag his stele from the bedside table at one point to activate his Stamina rune, only because he wants this to last much longer. It feels like they’re frozen in time, nothing to care about in the world besides each other, yet there’s a small voice in Alec’s head reminding him that time is always, _always_ moving forward.

And that he doesn’t have enough of it. It could never be enough unless it was infinite - too many places to explore, too much to do and see in the world - with Magnus, always with Magnus, that’s what Alec wants. It scares him. They’ve only been dating a couple months shy of a year, but it feels - it feels-

“Magnus,” Alec gasps out.

Magnus stops his rhythm, and the room suddenly seems quiet without the steady _slap_ of Magnus’ hips against Alec’s ass. Alec blushes, absurdly, and tries to remember what he wanted to say. “I - um - I want to see you.”

“Mmm. Want to be on top, sweetheart?”

Alec nods, then hisses when Magnus pulls out slowly. He stretches out onto his back next to Alec and smiles, cat eyes crinkling at the corners; Alec climbs on top of him and kisses him hard, trying to relax and slow things down again. He never wants this to end.

Magnus groans and rocks his hips up when Alec nibbles on his lower lip, and when Alec slides the crease of his ass over the wet length of Magnus’ dick, one of the large floor-to-ceiling windowpanes shatters. They laugh against each other’s mouths, their own small noises now drowned out by the sounds of the city below.

“I love that I can still make you do that,” Alec murmurs.

Magnus scratches his hands lightly down Alec’s back, making him shiver. “I love _you.”_

Alec’s smile only gets wider. “I love you too.”

He lifts up a little and whines against Magnus’ mouth when Magnus lines himself up, his hole giving a little because it’s already been fucked open. When Alec starts to sink down he has to turn away and gasp in a couple of desperate breaths of air that now smells like espresso and cigarettes. It seems so different and yet, as he takes a couple inches inside, it feels achingly, _deliciously_ familiar.

A small noise escapes Alec’s throat without his control, and he looks back down at Magnus, who looks as wrecked as he feels.

“Alexander,” Magnus breathes, eyes practically glowing.

 _Gods,_ he always feels so much bigger when Alec’s on top. Alec sits the rest of the way down, biting his own lip and white-knuckling the sheets when Magnus is completely inside.

He leans down to join their mouths together again, kissing Magnus deeply while he starts to rock his hips back and forth the tiniest bit. They both groan, and Magnus’ hands start to wander south, pressing on Alec’s lower back and making him feel every inch.

“God, Magnus, _ungh - god.”_

Magnus’ fingers are curious, feeling around where they’re joined, and then he puts a spark of magic into them that crawls up Alec’s spine and makes his back arch in pleasure. “So good,” Alec breathes. “I want - don’t stop-”

“I won’t stop if you don’t,” Magnus teases, squeezing Alec’s ass as he starts to ride him harder.

Alec nods frantically and kisses him again, nearly sobbing when a tendril of magic wraps around his dick and vibrates as he smears precome in between their stomachs. He knows this is going to end soon but he doesn’t _want_ it to - he wants time to stop but it’s not going to, it’s _never_ going to, and soon he’ll be-

Shit. Looks like he _and_ Magnus are both working through some stuff.

Alec tries to snap out of it, tries to focus on what he’s feeling and hearing and smelling and seeing, but the only thing that really works is a promise: he’s not going to let himself lose this. He’s _not._ Whatever he needs to do, he’ll work out the specifics later-

 _“Fuck,”_ Alec moans, rolling his hips.

Magnus tugs him closer, wrapping his arms around Alec’s back and rocking his own hips up to make up for the momentum Alec’s lost. It puts even more pressure on Alec’s cock - between that, the magic that’s pulsing around him, and the wicked press of Magnus inside him, Alec isn’t going to last much longer.

“Magnus - Magnus, I’m close,” he groans.

Magnus eyes light up. _“Yes,_ my darling.”

Alec can never take it when he talks like that, and a second later the magic wrapped around his dick grows even more intense - he sobs, tugs on Magnus’ soft hair as he starts to clench around him.

“Oh, that’s perfect, sweetheart,” Magnus murmurs against his lips. “Let go.”

Alec does, just a second later, with Paris in the air all around them and Magnus inside him, squeezing around his dick and clinging to him with his whole body. He comes feeling safer and more desperate than ever all at once, and he feels a little spark in his balls that draws out his orgasm, leaves him sobbing against Magnus’ mouth when he finally starts to come down. Magnus is shivering too, nails digging into his sides as he comes and shatters another one of the windowpanes.

Alec buries his face in Magnus’ shoulder and sighs happily, feeling Magnus trembling underneath him. He gradually comes back into awareness of everything else around them besides the two of them - cars honking and indistinct chatter from the streets below, the warmth of the sun on the side of his face, the smell of strong coffee. He realizes with a start that they still have a full day’s worth of time to do whatever they want.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow,” he admits against Magnus’ skin.

Magnus chuckles. “We can always come back.”

“Mm-kay,” Alec mumbles, snuggling closer. “Can we do a warlock’s tour next time?”

“Is the mundane tour that bad?” Magnus laughs.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job.” Alec kisses the side of his neck. “God, I’m so tired now. I just remembered why I don’t like doing this in the morning.”

“Oh, but I have a full day planned for us already!” Magnus exclaims, easing himself gently out of Alec’s body. Alec whines quietly. “I thought you wanted distracting.”

“I do, I do,” Alec insists. “Just… give me ten minutes for a nap? It _is_ my birthday.”

“Oh, so _now_ you want to admit it,” Magnus laughs, rolling them so they’re facing each other on the pillows. Alec smiles and ducks his head, feeling suddenly shy as he cuddles up against Magnus’ chest. “Fine, ten minutes. I’m holding you to that, Alexander, we have a lot of Parisian history to pack into a single day.”

Alec smiles against his collarbone. “You’re the best.”  


He drifts peacefully snuggled against his warlock boyfriend, already planning more trips to more new cities and wondering what else they could do with more time. He’ll work out the specifics later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! Let me know in the comments or on [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments or on [tumblr](http://povverbottoms.tumblr.com)! I always like hearing what you guys have to say. I hope you liked the first chapter, and the second/final one should be up soon!


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